Batmanstrasse
by Apocalyptic Carnage
Summary: Alex Day needs to earn money. Enough money to make her dreams come true. When she is offered a job at a the most conspicuous manor in Gotham City, she never realized the mess she was walking straight into. It's like something from the Sounds of Music. All that's left is for her to start prancing around like a magical pixie horse.


Dear reader,

I cordially invite you to partake in this new discovery of mine. It is not my first fanfiction but it is the first I am hoping to actually finish, however long that may take.

I'd like to send a shout-out to my editter and friend Lily without whom I would still be ignorant of "if" clauses. Also, a disclaimer is in due: I don't own Batman or it's notable and un-notable characters. I do however own Alexandria Day, her family and any DC unrelated characters in this story.

I encourage you to tell me what you think and where you would like this piece of work to go. Please do not take this literature seriously as it is just that: literature.

Thank You All,

Author

* * *

Chapter 1:

Come on, this isn't the first time you've ever done this. Though, hopefully, it will be your last. I desperately tried to calm my over-reacting heart as I stood at the gates of the biggest motherfucking manor I've ever had the misfortune to knock upon. Excuse my French.

The only reason I was even looking for work was because of my parents. Yeah, yeah; I'm a spoiled brat who's almost 23 years old, and has never had a job in her overprivileged life. I should probably explain that they are extremely unsupportive of anything and everything I do. Mostly because I try my darn-est to provoke them by following my dreams, and not their ideals of what career I should pursue. It was, therefore, my choice to drop out of medical school 4 years in. Consequently, they cut me off and refused to pay for my culinary tuition. Unfortunately for me, I don't have the money to pay for it independently, which is why I currently find myself standing in front of this fucker trying not to hyperventilate before the job interview. Why do they even have a job interview for a cleaning lady is beyond me, but I suppose the richest family in the entire flippin' world or country can afford to be peculiar of their choice in employees? Even if they do only clean their Japanese toilets! I really shouldn't be so bitter about the entire ordeal; I could probably still make amends and call it a day with my parents, but then there's Pride getting in the way. And I really want to open my own bakery; I make good, sweet stuff.

I pulled the thin jacket I snatched before having this half-brained idea closer around me, and opened the entrance gate of the estate. I wondered how many maids they even have in that thing. Will I have to sleep in the attic like something out of a Bronte novel? Will they feed me stale bread and some moldy cheese? Surely if I start singing from Oliver Twist or Annie, I could get something a little more savory. I wanted to become a culinary expert after all, and I need the practice.

After opening the gate, there was the issue of entering the grounds, then walking around the giant ass fountain in the center of the driveway surrounded by lovely smelling lawn. If everything smells this good in Rich-People-Ville, I can't be held responsible for sniffing everything on sight.

One step.

Two steps.

And there we go; I'm walking if you can believe it. I really hope this lapse in sanity stabilizes before I actually talk to the master or butler, or son of master, or son-of-son-of master. Or the daughter. Or the wife.

Finally, I reached the stupendous door. I honestly expected that when I rang the echoing bell, Professor McGonagall would answer telling me I'm too old to attend Hogwarts. I can tell you right now that if that were to happen, I'd first die of shock then cry because I'm just as boring a Muggle as I was when I was 11. Damn you Dad for bringing reality crashing on top of me like a comical piano dropped from a tall building! Sadly, Minnie didn't answer my prayers; instead I was greeted by a kind looking old man who looked like he could use a rest and a strong cup of coffee or tea. Preferably tea as it's healthier.

"Hello, sir. The agency sent me as a response to your request." I flashed him my million watt smile in hopes to blind him to my complete idiocy.

"Follow me, please, Miss" I began to ask but stopped myself immediately upon hearing my voice echo dramatically through the mythical entrance hall.

An impressive staircase ascended before me, and I took a moment to admire the architecture of the interior. I felt like I entered Disney's rendition of Beauty and the Beast though no singing candlesticks were to be seen" and so Mr. Sir went on a very long monologue describing each and every one of my duties in the up-keeping of the manor.

I should have probably mentioned that I had never in my entire life been to Gotham City before. Therefore, my ignorance with anything related to its superhero complex and obnoxious high society is adequately explanatory. Nevertheless, my utter incompetence of the social standing of my employer should have somewhat surprised the butler guy. Fortunately, whether it did or did not send him into an astounded frenzy that would fire my ass, I could not tell for his face betrayed nothing.

Finally, the interview was over, I was awarded the Nobel Poker-Face Award for not screwing up a job opportunity and was left to return to Angela's house to finish re-packing my belongings. Apparently, it was of the utmost importance that I live in the manor. I still have no idea why.

His Highness: The Butler instructed me to return the next day at noon so as to settle in my rooms and become slightly acquainted with the mansion. I shook his hand, politely thanked him for the tea and cookies, and headed back to the land of uncomfortable yet cheaper furniture. Angela picked me up on her way from work and was absolutely thrilled that I wouldn't be sucking her livelihood anymore. Talk about friendship!

* * *

Before you go don't forget to leave a comment letting me know your opinion on my work, constructive criticism and where you would like the story to progress to.

Thank you and have a good day!


End file.
